Thursday, April 27, 2017

Jeff Skewes # 14 Oh Boy






The climbing turned to sand
echos no more the same
grass stood quiet
all the while
what can be said of
a way to return
to this place

without land 
sham borders 
time travel dissolves 
separateness 
it's you that I seek




image: Oh Boy  - pen & ink / recycled rice paper  / jskewes


Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Aqua Dragons #3: Time Dilation (Dojo St Mark’s)


On the night after you left
I found I was able to time travel

a free falling particle crashing
through an Einstein–Rosen bridge
opened in the void of your departure

I wormed my way to Dojo, St Mark’s Place
where I woke from a long, hard night
falling out of gravitational collapse
under the awning
the scent of buckwheat and ginger
wafting onto the street

the line for entry grew long
like insatiable hunger
a past pressing against the lips as wind, age
light in a box
the certainty of repetition
brownstones became redstones
footsteps on cobblestones
in the East Village of my mind
and this was no restaurant

I walked and walked
but got no closer to sustenance

wherever I was going at this hour
curving in arbitrarily negative self-intersection
had to be alone
a destination increasingly vague

the air turned to grey ice
people who filled the streets faded into clouds
while I continued to walk backwards through time
eyes bleeding with longing and the flash of orange neon
against a dark brick facade

even in that light it was clear
I would never reach dinner
or feel at home again
in this closed curve of distance
warped to obsolescence
returning from the future
on a shore of time

where I no longer belonged.

Kerri Shying R # 23 - yamanha Bilirr ( together with the white-tailed black cockatoo)


yamanha Bilirr *

black cockie’s back chatting to itself swaying at the tippy top
of bamboo green   the blunted head  continuing some  argument

started back at Blackbutt or in the bush up there at Bull Street
I can’t do much but sit             it is the magnet of the air   too big to be

up there  down here so close to me  alone             in the evening when they wheel down
in the summer            they attend the place in pairs    it is the wrong time

a mid-day   in the autumn  
we are here  causing or swimming in the thin sour soup inevitable  death fear

I will wait

to hear what you have to say    see no branches thrown when I know
your beak can strip that wood              used to come and tear the limbs off

Christmas Bush     pelt it down the street for fun at Tighes Hill           
 today we  sit              we sway              the cream of your neck

 the hard length of the claws    the voice
I don’t know what to say     here with you my known companion

 sweet the sun the sky the earth the words inside my skin occur recur 
 it takes us both to recognize the place we find ourselves within

despite the notional despair  the thickness of the air   the rapid fire  of challenge  to declare   what    choice  is made in this inseparable life  no surprise then

 the two halves of my head
don’t match             and all the birds are black             and white  I am thinking

it will rain tonight

*yamanha Bilirr
together with the white-tail black cockatoo

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Kit Kelen - an attitude of waiters


an attitude of waiters

eyes down
won't see you
though it's only moments
since they pounced
so that you're seated now
and now it is the season

let's have them stiff starched
creased to bow
tuned to any tongue

their world is pigeon swift
yet priestly, they will stand like herons
have had the special training
they are, collectively, an attitude
and know each other's signs

once of the kingdom
it is we seek their attention
this is as pointless as prayer

patience! are we virtuous?
sometimes we wave
the scripture at them
kitchen will have
none of that
even the specials run out

clock slogs
appetite makes monsters
it will pauperise the soul

cook knows
how much condiment

even to pay
may be a struggle
it matters little
how much silver
you leave for them
on the plate

in heaven
an attitude attends
they have crowded to your whim
obsequious of any peep
no greater delight in their station but serve
tips? this host would be offended
if they could be amused
of course you are already fed
nor will the savour ever lessen

so they take orders
just for form
a flock of them
breath baited to guess
as in The Gay Divorcee
having lived forever in so small a world
come to a cup of tea

here on earth
my model's Charlie Chaplin
with his two great buffet trays
and absolutely no intention to pay

cigar for after
that's the style
and let the world cough up

Béatrice Machet # 20 After Series ... (G.STEIN)

# 20  After .. (G.STEIN)... Series                  ...



Can we envision some                   self-consciousness for abstract concepts such as …. ___________  
                                                        self-control for letters such as  …._________________________

[----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

Jolted awake                                      H               by scary tactics
as if lightening stared down                   I            to your face
                                                               S
                                                               THEN
                                                              O
itching felt on the lids                           R
               and soon the thought of   a n Y t h I n g         is erased

SO   MUCH   SO…
H  ow to deflect emotional responses

I  f nobody can afford a breakdown

                           aS   nobody want to sink into deep scars
     T
     O  f memory
                     and  blathering on and on
                          aR  e
    Y  ou fooling yourself

     having been part of it            or not           we had been mostly troublesome


 ********************************************************


Peut-on envisager             une conscience de soi dont seraient dotés les concepts tels que…_______   
                                           du self-control dont seraient dotées les lettres telles que ...____________                                                              
 [----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]

Réveillé en sursaut                                H                 par d’effrayantes tactiques
comme si la foudre tombait droit                I            sur votre visage
                                                                    S
                                                                    T
                                                               al O rs
démangeaison des paupières                      I
                                                                    R
                   et vite n’importe quelle pensé E   est effacée 

TELLEMENT …
      H  comment dévier les réponses émotionnelles
    s I  personne ne peut se permettre une depression
                        alorS   que personne ne veut sombrer dans une
                        cicaT rice profonde
                  de mémo
                               I re
                et déblatéR ant encore et encore
                        arrivE z-vous à vous tromper vous-même

                  en y ayant pris part  ou pas                     nous avons été avant tout pénibles

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Kerri Shying R # 22Time that bastard learned


Time that bastard learned           

in his Harry High pants   corduroys             creaking
in cicada throats             coming up the hall      I see
a clipboard              doesn’t mean it’s there              you can bet
my bottom dollar a thing that’s shiny from being

oft-fingered

 he puts his hand right on the bright orange cap
of a one ml fit             holds it up and says
so we’ll be needing to wear our high-risk gear in here, will we?
  and I will stammer out the truth that
  some dude or other left it there

but it may just as well
 be mine and I wish
I had the needle

just to stab him or to stitch him
into the root of righteousness

from this second
right up to eternity so he can’t
wriggle out

I knew this lady
her husband gave her a smack or two
when drunk            she waited
got the sewing kit              and sewed she stitched
him into bed             right through the sheets the mattress

a giant naïve dollie              and when he woke they were all
there            all the women            laughing
you’ve all got to sleep    sometime

Jeff Skewes #13 Into the forest



Climbing began facing the sun believing the promise lay just beyond 



arcade roads
paths
and arteries
share the timing
caterpillars learn
to fly

here there
once thriving markets
people caravaned
shape shifted
left tracks
in all directions

what sparks a Renaissance
conjurers spring timed pale orange
rain showers
clouds to
dream-up Shangri-la
what use life's poetry

lives in ruins
rumored buried
under lost towns
centuries old
texts pass 
to whom know

countless lives
misplaced
forgotten
ghosted
en-route
eastward?

nomads 
communes
tune 
where trade
is spare
dancing here and 

their scattered relics
dust and more
find ways
into open skies
become
the map co-ordinates

forests whisper 
to themselves
turn left / right
go straight start again
taller trees form major chords
chorus: the actor gone it's only you and me

frozen and failed
phony peace wars
always turned
whole
generations
upside down

in code at first 
texts
were read by braille
woven to satsang
by older hands
until translation stood still

some ancient tale
by peculiar means
quelled hearts
quieten minds
their fabled lines
suspending doubt

so belief
in who
knows
sees
time
just

stopped




image:(Kelly) Green (detail) synthetic polymer and enamel paint on stretched canvas / jskewes